Frank's cheeks had gone pale. He swayed a little, like a dying oak caught in a stiff breeze. I grabbed him. It took all my strength to keep him upright.
"You've lost a lot of blood," I said. "This asshole is right about one thing. You need a doctor."
Couttis gestured behind him. "The cruiser's that way."
I began leading Frank toward the beach. "We don't want your help."
"Who said you had a choice?"
* * *
Frank's condition steadily worsened. He tripped over roots. He grabbed branches to steady himself. He breathed so heavily I worried he would rupture a lung. I helped as much as I could, but I couldn't carry him. Eventually, I had to ask Kent Couttis for help. Watching him touch Frank turned my stomach.
Overhead, the clouds thickened and rain began to fall in a steady drizzle, making the ground slick. We had to work twice as hard to help Frank. By the time we arrived at the beach, we were practically dragging him.
Rain-soaked and shivering, we halted next to Couttis's cruiser. Frank leaned heavily against the vehicle's door, his hand covering his bloody eye socket while Couttis pulled a first-aid kit from the trunk. I noticed the patrolman had parked behind Frank's undercover, blocking the access road and trapping us here. Also, only one car had responded to Frank's broadcast.
"You the only one on the road today?" I asked Couttis as he placed a bandage on Frank's face.
"No," Couttis said, his tone still sharp with anger. "We rolled three cars this shift."
"Yet you were the only one to respond to an officer down alert?"
"I called off the other cars." Couttis took a roll of gauze and began wrapping it around Frank's head. His touch was gentler than I would have expected. "I know the area, Doctor. I know what's out here, what dangers exist and what don't. Having other officers present…" He shrugged. "It would only complicate matters."
My face grew hot. "I suppose you called off the ambulance, too."
"There," Couttis told Frank after securing the gauze into place with tape. "That should hold you until we get you into town." He turned to regard me. His eyes were unforgiving. "I did. This was something I needed to handle on my own."
"You'd rather let someone die than have your friends discover your sick little secret?"
"It's more complicated than that."
"Murder seems pretty straight-forward to me."
"Don't lecture me on murder," Couttis said. "You know what I saw earlier? Three cops dead, one of them my father, the others family in a way you would never understand. They were dear to me, and now they're gone. You and your friend were involved. I just don't know how."
Couttis's anger meant nothing to me. He was the enemy; he could control the dolls. For all I knew, he was the one who took our wives. I helped Frank into the car. He slumped against the door, his eye shut. Blood had already seeped through the bandage, more than I liked to see. He needed medical care pronto.
I turned to confront Couttis. The adrenaline dump from the dolls' attack had faded, leaving me exhausted and oh so very pissed. I used the anger to energize me. I stepped up to Couttis and poked a finger in his chest, cop be damned.
"We had nothing to do with your father's death," I said. "Sytniak killed him. He pulled his gun and shot him. Then he tried to kill us. It's like he went crazy."
"You're lying," Couttis said evenly. "Ted Sytniak was my friend and a dedicated police officer. He would never have killed my father."
"He would,” I said, “if your father saw something he wasn't supposed to."
Couttis hesitated. "What do you mean?"
I took the proximity lock from my pocket and held it up so Couttis could see it. The metal egg was black with dried blood. "He saw this!"
Couttis's eyes widened. For a moment, he seemed to stop breathing, then his chin dropped. His hands fell loosely to his sides. He took an uncertain step back, the soles of his boots scraping the muddy ground. He said something, but his voice was too low for me to hear.
I asked him to repeat what he'd said.
"It's my fault," Couttis said. "My father died because of me."
I put away the egg. "How is it Emersville's Chief of Police doesn't know about a proximity lock, when everyone else here seems to?"
Couttis countered with his own question. "What happened to Marge Jacaruso?"
"She said she’d become something loathsome and shot herself. Then your dad and Sytniak arrived. We killed Sytniak defending ourselves." I left out the part about the alien invasion. Better to keep him in the dark about what we knew. "Cops killing cops. Helluva police force you have. Where did you get your cadets, a mental hospital?"
Couttis's eyes narrowed. Almost leisurely, he drew his gun and leveled it at me. "Get in the car."
"What if I don't? Will you summon your legion of demon dolls to finish the job?"
"You and the detective are a long way from Rock Mills. He has no jurisdiction here, no official capacity, and you're not a cop. You have no reason to be here, which means you came here on your own." He cocked his head to the side. "Does anyone know you're here? No? Well, that's unfortunate. There's no one to rescue you, no one to find your body. You're completely alone." He raised the gun until the barrel pointed at my head. "Now get in the fucking car!"
I was out of options. I opened the cruiser's door and climbed inside. Couttis moved around to the other door and did the same. He started the car, all the while keeping the gun trained on me.
"Where are you taking us?" I asked.
Couttis looked into the rearview mirror. "Detective, are you awake?"
Frank stirred. "Yeah, I'm here."
"I can take you to a hospital,” Couttis said. “Doctors will treat your wound and you’ll eventually go home." He paused. "That is, if you want to remain monocular. There are other options."
Frank's head turned until he could see Couttis. "My eye is gone. It's back there"—he gestured out the window—"torn out by one of those goddamned dolls."
Couttis nodded. "True."
"But you're saying I don't have to stay like this." Frank pawed at the gauze covering his face. "I don't have to wear a pirate patch for the rest of my life?"
"Also true," Couttis said.
Frank's voice almost broke. "Impossible. I can't grow another eye."
"No, you can't," Couttis said. "But I know someone who might be able to do it for you."
* * *
Officer Kent Couttis and I sat in the too clean dining lobby of Black and Brewed. He sipped from a cup of strong, black coffee. I couldn't stomach any of the liquid. My gut burned as it was.
"I still think we should have taken Frank to a hospital," I said.
Couttis shrugged, a gesture I found increasingly annoying. "He's in better hands here than anywhere else."
"You'd better be right."
"Your threats mean nothing to me."
From the cool look he gave me, I had to agree. "Where did they take him?"
"To a room beneath the store."
When we'd arrived, Black and Brewed had been filled with the usual suspects. At a gesture from Couttis, Cyrus Kline and his gang of hipster hangers-on escorted Frank to the rear of the store. The rest sat calmly, drinking their drinks and murmuring to one another as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Their reaction reminded me of the old Doors song, the one about being a stranger among the strange.
"May I see the egg?" Couttis asked.
"Don't you mean the proximity lock?"
"The egg," he said.
Reluctantly, I set it on the table. Several customers looked our way. Until now, they had ignored us.
Couttis picked it up and ran his thumb over its gory surface. The gesture seemed oddly endearing. After a moment, he said, "You called it a proximity lock. Where did you hear the name?"
I thought back to the home invasion, the Dementors, and the guy who beat me up. "From your glorious mayor, Conrad Hunter."
"Connie told you?"
"Actually," I said, "it was o
ne of his buddies-in-crime. Hunter was too busy kicking the shit out me to converse."
Couttis hesitated. "Would it help if I told you Hunter was working on his own? No one wanted to see you or your wife hurt."
My gut tightened. "So Toni is hurt?"
"No," Couttis said. "The same can be said for the detective's wife. They're too valuable. No one would risk causing their deaths."
Jacaruso, or whatever had been inside her, had said the same thing: Toni and Kerry were valuable. I plucked the egg from Couttis's hand. "Valuable in what way? And what does a proximity lock have to do with them?"
Couttis settled back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his coffee momentarily forgotten. "Those aren't easy questions to answer. I'm not sure it's wise to even attempt one." He pursed his lips. "Are you familiar with the legend of Pandora?"
"She opened a box and allowed evil to escape into the world."
"Are you familiar with the other part of the legend?"
"Why don't you educate me?"
"When she opened the lid, Pandora realized what she had done and quickly closed it. When she did, she unfortunately trapped forever the one thing the world needed most."
"What?"
"Hope." He gave a dry chuckle. "Only hope was left in the jar. Whether it was hope for humanity or hope against the evils she had released, no one knows, but a world without hope is a cold, bitter world." His eyes threaded into mine. "Pandora's Box is a parable—it never existed—but there's a reason why cautionary tales like this have endured for thousands of years: they ring true on a primitive level. As a species we know there are mysteries in the world that, once we open them to our lives, we let evil in. Do you want to let evil into your world, Doctor Jordan? Are you prepared for the consequences of your actions?"
I searched Couttis's face for some indication he was jacking with me, that he was being overdramatic in an effort to scare me off. His expression, however, hadn’t changed—the set of his jaw, as inflexible as granite, conveyed the truth as he saw it. Here was a man who believed in himself, possibly to a degree others might find fanatical. The thought didn't reassure me.
"You talk about letting evil into the world," I said. "How asking questions would unleash unspeakable horrors on an unsuspecting civilization. I think those horrors already exist, in this town, and I think you're involved." I gestured to the people sipping coffee. "I think you're all involved. Something dangerous is going on. Just because I want to understand it doesn't mean I'm creating it. I think it's the opposite—I think my questions frighten you. The fact I may discover your secret terrifies you to the core." I leaned forward. "You're attempting an end-around and it failed. Tell me what the egg is or I take it public. I'm sure there are plenty of scientists out there who would love to examine it."
Couttis smiled coldly. "If what you say is true, if I'm indeed afraid of being discovered, what makes you think you'd make it out of here with the proximity lock in your possession?"
I heard a noise behind me. Several of the Black and Brewed's patrons had gathered in a tight circle, hemming me in. Their closeness felt restrictive, as if they held me fast without actually touching me. I turned back to Couttis.
"First you warn me, now you threaten me. I've seen five-year-olds handle schoolyard bullies with more finesse." I stood. "I'm going to find Frank. You and your posse can stop me if you want, but I don't think you will. You brought me here for a reason. Since we arrived, you've been testing me. By now you should understand I won’t back down. People I love are hurt or missing. Someone in this town is responsible. I plan to find out who. Now, if you'll excuse me."
I started for the back of the store. Couttis put his hand on my arm.
"Sit down, Doctor." When I didn't comply, he pointed to my chair. "Sit, please. You're right, I did bring you here with a purpose in mind. Let me address it first, then we can see to your friend."
I sank into the chair. "What about my wife, and Frank's?"
Couttis motioned for the others to return to their seats. When we were reasonably alone, he said, "I assure you, I do not have them."
I caught a tone in his voice, something he'd probably heard dozens of times from suspects who were not quite telling the truth. "You know who does."
Couttis nodded. "I'm pretty sure I do, though there’s nothing we can do at the moment to help them. Address the matter at hand, deal with the other stuff later."
“The 'other stuff' involves the woman I love.”
“The longer we argue, the longer it will take to reunite you with her."
He was right. He had information I needed, and I had to cooperate to get it.
"We'll play it your way," I said. "Why did you bring Frank here instead of a hospital?"
Couttis opened two packs of sugar and dumped them into his coffee. "The doctors would have treated his wound and released him, but not before contacting the authorities. I told you at the lake, involving others is a complication I'd rather avoid. Also, he would have emerged from this with only one eye. I feel partly responsible for his injury. I wanted to make it up to him."
I bit back a retort about his being only partly responsible. Instead, I said, "By lying to him and saying he could get another eye?"
"I never said it was a lie."
"I'm also here for a reason. What is it?"
Couttis finished his coffee and went to the counter to refill the mug. It was his fourth since he'd arrived.
"Survival puts you in an awkward place," he said after he'd returned to his seat. "At first you love it. Hey, look at me! I'm alive! It's the most incredible, mind-numbing high in the world. Then the high wears off, and your shiny new life begins to dull. You see it more clearly. It becomes real. You look back at what you'd done to get here, at the people you'd inevitably hurt in the process, people dear to you, people you love, and your stomach turns. Survival becomes a massive weight bearing down on you, warping you until you find yourself committing acts you would not normally do, atrocities you have fought against your entire life." He looked away. "What's the point in living if you've become something you despise?"
I watched a small muscle near Couttis's left eye twitch, and sweat broke out along his brow. He was a man under extreme duress and, true or not, what he’d said affected him deeply.
"None of this makes sense," I said. "You're a general leading an army of maniacal dolls that move and act through a technology I don't understand." Or exists on this world. Jacaruso's claim of an alien invasion clashed with Womblic's irrefutable facts about interstellar travel. One had to be correct, and the evidence leaned heavily toward the impossible. "You talk about guilt, but to me, you look more like the aggressor than the victim."
Couttis tapped the table with his finger. "What if I could show you what I mean, right here, right now? Would you do it?"
His words caught me off guard. He wanted to show me proof—but proof of what? The possibilities were too numerous to count, too frightful to contemplate.
Couttis must have noticed my expression. "What I'm offering," he said, "is a peek inside Pandora's Box. My only request is, before you look, you tell me what you know. What I'm offering is dangerous. I need to know where I should start, how quickly I can proceed."
I hesitated. Part of what Couttis had said was true: parables like Pandora's Box had lasted for this long because they hold a certain amount of truth, and if I were to accept his offer, I might allow evil into the world.
I think those horrors already exist...
My arms rested on the table top, my fingers twisting my wedding band in fretful circles. I looked down at the plain, gold band, my mind drifting back to the day Toni had placed it on my finger. The day my life had become fuller than I could have hoped. The day I had understood love as a person should.
"It began last week," I said, and told Couttis about Doug Belle, the shock he had received from Thumbkin, how that event led to the discovery of the proximity lock, and how everything progressed from there. I told him about Jacaruso's claim the
earth was being invaded by aliens, and how the knowledge had driven her to suicide. I told him about Doug Belle's crisis and my discussion with what I felt was an entity possessing him, and how, like Jacaruso, the entity had pushed him to suicide. I even told him about Ricky Womblic and our discussion about intergalactic travel.
I left nothing out. When I was done, I felt drained, as if I had purged a deadly poison from my system by simply speaking of it.
Couttis watched me as I spoke. When I got to Doug Belle's suicide, I thought I saw pain or regret flicker behind his eyes. Otherwise, I could have been talking to a mannequin.
"I appreciate your honesty," Couttis said when I'd finished. "I know that couldn't have been easy."
"Nothing about your town or your people has been easy."
The corners of Couttis's mouth drew down to fine points. "You know nothing of easy or hard." Couttis stood. "Come with me."
We approached a white painted door behind the service. Couttis opened it. On the other side was a room filled with bags of coffee beans, large grinders, and brew pots the size of industrial dough mixers.
"Where are we going?"
Couttis didn't hesitate. "Into another world."
* * *
I followed Couttis to the back of the room, where he stopped in front of another door, metal with a sturdy lock and a deadbolt. He drew a key ring from his pocket and unlocked them. We were now standing in a room barely large enough for both of us to fit comfortably. A lone bulb threw light down from the ceiling. Three walls were painted harsh orange, much like the surface of the dead planet I had seen in my dream. The fourth appeared to be made of stainless steel: shiny metal covered the wall from top to bottom and side to side. Set into the surface, about chest high, was a glass pad, dark and unadorned, not unlike a computer tablet. Couttis placed his hand on it. The glass began to emit a pale green light. Several seconds later, it changed to blue and Couttis removed his hand.
"I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do," he said. "Bringing you here goes against every precaution we've set up."
The Conveyance Page 22